Ultimate Betrayal
by weemcg33
Summary: Clint has been betrayed by the one person he trusts. The person he thought would never stab him in the back. Natasha has taken something that belongs to him; or did she? Only one way to find out! Rated T for safety.


Disclaimer: I own nothing as always...so sad

Authors Note: I'm still here LOL just in case you were wondering :) I know this has nothing to do with any of my other stories and I would like to apologise for how long it's taking to get the next birthday posted. The last few months have been pretty bad and my head hasn't been in it, then to top it off I managed to download a virus on to my laptop and lost all of the stories I'd been working on as I hadn't saved them :( (It wasn't a good time)

But now I have an awesome present from my friend Donna, a USB storage device shaped like Iron Man's hand...it's awesome!

Anyway enough of my rambling, this is just a little piece that wouldn't leave me alone the other day so I had to get it down.

Hope you all enjoy!

* * *

Clint couldn't believe it. He'd been betrayed by the one person he trusted above everyone else. The only one he thought he could depend on when times got tough. His own partner had stabbed him in the back. His hardened gaze locked on the red-haired beauty standing a few feet from him. He tightened his grip on the gun, hating that he didn't have his bow handy. Sadly his weapon of choice was sitting on top of his bed, it was only three doors from his current location but it might as well have been a mile away.

"How could you Natasha?"

The Russian assassin raised a delicate eyebrow, clearly not intimidated at all by the archer's anger. She kept her own weapon aimed at Clint's head, her hand steady as a rock.

"I think you're forgetting who started this Barton?" Natasha exclaimed, eyes narrowing defensively.

Clint snorted, gesturing with his free hand toward the kitchen work top. "Well it definitely wasn't me, Nat."

Romanoff took a step closer to the archer, making Barton back up a step. Needing to keep some distance between them in this standoff. Clint knew he was a good shot, hell the assassin never missed, but his partner was even deadlier up close and personal.

"Well it wasn't me either."

"What the hell?" came the shocked voice of the genius billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Tony Stark stood frozen in the doorway to the open plan kitchen and lounge area, his eyes wide in disbelief. "What the hell is going on?"

Neither assassin batted an eye at Stark's question. Both were only too aware that any lapse in concentration would give the other person the chance to attack.

"Who was it then?" Clint asked, completely ignoring Tony who was still gaping like a fish at the doorway. It was obvious the billionaire knew better than to step into whatever the hell was going on between the two resident assassins.

Natasha shrugged. "It could have been Steve."

"No, Steve asks before taking anything," Hawkeye replied. "Try again."

"Maybe it was Tony."

The genius shook his head, clearly distressed with how this conversation was going.

Barton chuckled darkly. "Tony's stupid, but he's not that stupid."

"Hey!" Stark called, clamping his mouth shut when both Clint and Natasha flipped the safeties off their weapons. Now was not the time to come out with his smart ass comments. Tony didn't know what had made them turn on each other but he needed to do something before his team mates killed one another. He was not redecorating this floor again after the last disaster with Bruce hulking out when the last slice of bread got stuck in the toaster ending up more like a slice of charcoal that lightly toasted bread. It was an eye-opening situation to say the least.

"Bruce?" Romanoff offered, keeping her face carefully blank when Clint snorted.

"The guy who tries to actively avoid dangerous situations? Come on Natasha, you can do better than that."

Neither assassin moved an inch when Steve suddenly burst into the room, ignoring Tony's comments about getting himself shot if he interrupted.

"Clint? Natasha? What's going on?" Steve's usually calm and patient demeanour was nowhere to be seen. His panicked gaze flicked between both team mates searching for answers. Rogers stopped a few feet away, unwilling to get too close to the duo. He hadn't the foggiest clue what had happened since last night when everyone seemed so relaxed. They'd spent the night watching movies, at Tony's suggestion and everyone seemed to enjoy the down time. There was no danger, no risking their lives and no one telling them what to do; well apart from Tony but he was easy to ignore, sometimes.

"Natasha ate my sandwich," Clint blurted, his eyes blazing with fury. He still couldn't believe she would do that to him. She knew how much he loved his ultimate sandwich; it was a taste of heaven. Three layers of bread, each filled with different types of meat, salad and sauce, topped with melted cheese. It was worth dying for, and on more than one occasion the archer almost had.

"No, I didn't!" Romanoff shot back, her green eyes sparked with deadly promise. "You ate my cinnamon bun!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

Tony feeling a little braver with Captain America standing in front of him decided to point out the obvious. "Why don't we just ask JARVIS who touched your stuff?"

Both Clint and Natasha looked a little sheepish but still refused to lower their weapons. It was time to find out who the culprit was.

Tony grabbed himself a drink from the fridge, and motioned with his hand in the air for JARVIS to bring the security feed up on the big screen.

"_I have scanned the footage and isolated the time and team member responsible, sir._" JARVIS brought the main screen to life, showing the group who was responsible.

Tony couldn't help but laugh, his drink spurting out of his nose in response to the video feed. He turned in time to see a hint of a smirk gracing the team leader's features, then it was hidden carefully as both men turned to face the assassins. Neither Barton nor Natasha moved a muscle, their eyes wide in disbelief. What the hell were they going to do now? There was no way they could go up against him.

Bruce chose that moment to venture into the kitchen, his eye widening at the sight of the guns still held firmly in the two master assassin's grips.

"What's going on, guys?" he asked hesitantly, eyes flicking towards Tony who couldn't keep the knowing smile from his face. "Tony?"

"Are you hungry Bruce?" Stark asked, barely managing to keep a straight face.

"No actually, I feel oddly full." The mild-mannered doctor wasn't prepared for Clint and Natasha to glare at him with a look they usually reserved for a target.

The Hawk and Widow holstered their weapons and stormed out of the room, their voices carrying through the halls as they made their way towards the elevator.

"We could go to that little place on 6th? It should be open by now," Clint suggested. No one heard Natasha's reply as the elevator door slid shut.

Bruce faced Steve and Tony with a dumbfounded expression. "What the hell was that?"

The team Captain decided to inform the confused doctor what had just transpired.

"It seems the Hulk has been sleep eating." Steve pointed towards the screen behind him, watching as Banner's eyes widened comically at the sight of the Hulk demolishing the remnants of Clint's sandwich before turning to the red-haired assassin's cinnamon bun.

"I'm a dead man," Bruce sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Tony could no longer contain himself, he clapped the doctor's shoulder turning him around to face him. "I think you're okay Bruce. You might wake up with arrows sticking out of your ass like a pin cushion but at least you can't die."

Banner dropped into the nearest chair holding his head in both hands. "Oh brother…."

The End


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